The emails start flowing in from the trackside photography services each year at the same time—just after practice starts for the Daytona 500. Emails with subject lines like "3-car pileup," "A bunch of torn up cars," and other cringe-worthy titles stacking like 3-megabyte bricks in my inbox. And the barrage keeps coming.

Next, it's a burst of emails with crash shots attached from NASCAR Camping World Truck action, more from a NASCAR Sprint Cup session, a bunch during the Sprint Cup Unlimited and more again from the truck race on Friday night.
And then we had Saturday's DRIVE4COPD 300 NASCAR Nationwide race that sent Kyle Larson's car cleaving through the protective catch fence on approach to the checkered flag. 28 fans were strafed with shrapnel mostly from Larson's car and, if we're fortunate, everyone will fully recover from their injuries.

Those photos came in soon after the crash with subjects of "insanity," "INSANITY 2," "INSANITY 3," and so forth, with depictions of tattered steel cabling, destroyed cars and mayhem in the grandstands. In the days since the crash, what we're left with is an aftermath that does indeed fit the definition of insanity.

As long as the risk of death and injury isn't visited upon the audience sitting trackside, watching stock car drivers tumble through the air—and often along the very same fencing that partially stopped Larson's car, has become a routine part of the show.

For the average fan seated on the front stretch at Daytona, witnessing a stock car pirouette along the catch fence directly in front of them has become just as normal as buying a Coke and a hot dog.

Unless some fundamental changes are made to the sport, you can go ahead and put it on your calendar for next year, too. Without addressing the madness of that reality, NASCAR's seasonal debut at Daytona will continue to carry the risk that a 3,800-pound car might hurl itself at the race series' spectators.

Once the carnage came to an end on Saturday, conversations immediately turned to improved spectator safety, the use of stronger steel cables and the need for serious advancements in crowd-barrier technology as a whole. I can offer no argument against any of those assertions, but I'd think the first order of business would be to find ways to reduce the likelihood of having stock cars become 195 mph airborne projectiles. While keeping them inside the fencing is paramount, my take is that figuring out ways to keep them on the tarmac is where the discussion needs to begin.

How crowd barriers became the central focus is beyond me: If planes fell from the sky on a regular basis, the first reaction shouldn't be to search for stronger roofing materials. The Larson crash, like most accidents that launch cars skyward, involved a combination of cars stacked on top of each other as they raced towards the checkered flag and an idiot move by the leader who tried to block his way to victory.

That driver, Regan Smith, turned himself across the hood of a competitor, triggering the melee that dominated the news cycle. "My fault, I threw a block," said a rather contrite Smith. "I'll take full blame for it. But when you can see the checkered flag at Daytona, you're going to throw a block and you're going to do everything you can to be the first car back to the stripe." Smith, who admitted he was at fault and his move was intentional, went unpunished.

Before any technical changes are made to the cars or modifications are made to the barriers to prevent engines and suspension from landing in the grandstands, holding drivers like Smith accountable should also be a top priority.

Without serious sanctions, such as a multi-race ban and stiff fine for Smith, would you say any of the drivers have been given a serious reason to act or drive differently in the wake of the DRIVE4COPD 300?

Let's look at it another way. If a driver can admit to making a dangerous move that sent 28 people to the hospital and the track's medical center, and it doesn't even warrant a slap on the wrist, what would be considered a punishable offense?

Take this crash out of the context of Daytona and drop it into a Formula One race, and a guy like Smith would probably be facing a lifetime ban from the sport, wouldn't he?

There are also things that can be done to the cars themselves to reduce bumper-to-bumper racing on the big ovals. Whether it's a Handford-style device like the one used in CART that allowed slingshot passes while making it nearly impossible to ride in car's wake, or a new solution that prevents the Daytona 500 from looking like the vehicular equivalent of an overcrowded Japanese subway, breaking up pack racing is long overdue.

It took the death of Dan Wheldon at the 2011 IndyCar Series finale on the Las Vegas oval for open-wheel organizers to get serious about modifying the cars to prevent nose-to-tail racing. And the result, a lower downforce package that debuted on the 1.5-mile high banks at Texas, did the trick. It also delivered the best IndyCar oval race in years. Drivers had to work every second to keep their cars under control, and the by-product was a reduction in dangerous moves and greater separation between the cars.

IndyCar drivers also called for changes to the trackside barriers before and after Las Vegas, but lacking the clout to make it happen, nothing has changed.

Maybe it's because the cars are far more exposed, but most IndyCar drivers have altered their outlook on the big ovals, and will now give up a corner in the name of safety and prolonged lives. That's a sane culture change, and one that had been missing prior to Las Vegas.

We learned on Saturday that barriers, once thought of as impregnable, can be breached. We learned that too many have become desensitized to flying stock cars. We were reminded that fans can get hurt.

NASCAR has the clout to commission and fund a study into creating next-generation safety barriers. And if it wants to, it can also make changes to its cars to cease pack racing. It can rein in its drivers to make sure the next time someone wants to pull a Regan Smith maneuver, they'll know long before they turn the steering wheel that dire consequences await.

There are too many variables involved to guarantee stock cars will never get into the catch fencing, but if the desire and motivation is there, the odds of it happening can certainly be reduced by taking proactive measures.

Whether those changes will happen or if the status quo is maintained is entirely up to NASCAR.